


Are You From Starbucks? Because I Like You a Latte

by West_Coast_Moper



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Bad Pick-Up Lines, Dare, Embarrassment, M/M, Stuttering, Truth or Dare
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-26 04:29:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4990234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/West_Coast_Moper/pseuds/West_Coast_Moper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Y-you, uhm okay so...You must be a baker because, oh my god, b-because you've got a nice set of b-buns," </p>
<p>The guy then arched an eyebrow, a smirk etched into his face before he said "Dude this is literally a bakery." Oh my god.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Pick-up lines are a little out there.

A bakery, a fucking bakery, with horrible, absurd, cheesy pickup lines and Patrick kind of wants to cry.

 

"Guys please, just--" "Nope, a dare's a dare," Joe laughed, a wide grin put upon his face and Patrick got the sudden urge to rip it off. "Isn't truth or dare a little lame? C'mon guys can't we just go back to my place, or--"

 

"Dude just do it, it will be over as soon as it starts." Andy told him, clapping him on the back. Patrick knew agreeing to a game you should only play in grade school. Reason being all kids ranging from ten to twelve fucking care about is who you liked, or if you've ever kissed anyone before.

 

"Over because I'm gonna get punched," Patrick scoffed and shrugged Andy off, about to continue his pleads until Joe chimed in with "The beginning of the end."

 

"Oh thank you. Just what I needed. Assurance and all," Patrick sighed, eyes flicking back and forth, evaluating his surroundings. The place is small, quaint, and adorable. Patrick wants to gag. "This place is so pink, I think barbie threw up on it."

 

"Don't be rude," Joe scolded him. "They make awesome brownies." Andy gave a snort and nudged him in the shoulder. "Do you tell them to put weed in said deserts?" Joe shrugged, giving a slight narrow of his eyes. "Only some times," he mumbled quietly.

 

"I really hope you're kidding," Patrick said, his current frown deepening into a slight glower and Joe shrugged once again. "I'm not, but you can pretend."

 

"Okay," Patrick muttered, and then tried to make a quick getaway, however both his arms are seized before he can flee...he's not exactly what you'd call "fast" Think turtles, think snails, and think cats resting in the heat of the back porch on a warm sunny day because that's what he is.

 

Except he'd die of a heatstroke and obtain third degree burns because he's got the complexion of a ghost and that's totally not the point. Right now he's being shoved and pushed and that's because he's been dared to badger a poor soul, or someone who works in a bakery with atrocious pickup lines that Joe and Andy probably just snagged off of some stupid site from the internet.

 

"N-no, guys please, c'mon I don't want to--" Patrick attempted, struggling as his douchebag friends dragged him all the way up to the counter and yes people stared. A few smothered laughs happened too. Patrick's probably gonna cry later, or right now. Probably the latter.

 

"We gave you the list," Joe tsked and gave a shake of his head while Andy nodded, "You know the rules." Patrick then went limp, still being dragged to his impending doom with a long chant of why within his head. He then almost tripped when he received one last prod to the chest. Joe must of measured the force of his blow wrong because now Patrick's wobbling and about to fall over said counter until a hand steadies him from the back.

 

"Dude you okay?" A low voice asked, and then there's fingers slightly rubbing his shoulder, which feels way too pleasant to be real so his body makes the decision to throw a defense mechanism in the way and he gives a series of spasms out of the soft yet unexpected touch.

 

Patrick then whirls around, definitely not expecting a tattoo sheathed brunette to meet his eye. The guy's eyes widened, a whiskey brown lined with a thick contour of eyeliner.

 

"Oh," Patrick said dumbly, arms limp at his sides and he could hear the choked back snickers of his horrific friends behind him and Patrick thinks to himself, he really needs to get new friends.

 

"So...What can I get you?" The guy asked, uncomfortably might Patrick add, wow...he did not think this through, instead of planning this out he decided to freak the fuck out instead. Go him, right?

 

"Uh, u-uhm--" Patrick stuttered helplessly, one of his hands scrambling to scoop a folded up scrap of paper from his pocket. He then yanked it out almost ripping a corner in his haste to get this over with.

 

Meanwhile the guy watched him with a gleam of curiosity in his eyes as Patrick unraveled the sheet with shaky fingers, clearing his throat before strangling out one of the worst sentences he's ever had the misfortune of saying.

 

"Y-you, uhm okay so...You must be a baker because, _oh my god_ , b-because you've got a nice set of b-buns," the guy looks stunned, Patrick is humiliated and is tempted to run out and scurry back to his place to hide under his blankets for the rest of the day,  _or week._

 

The guy then arched an eyebrow, a smirk etched into his face before he said "Dude this is literally a bakery." Oh my god. Patrick is one hundred percent aware of this distinct detail. thankfully this dude was here to spell it out for him.

 

"I know--please don't hit me, but I have asshole best friends and a list of at least ten more." Patrick breathed and gave a guilty smile. He waved the note somewhat, emphasizing the fact.

 

The dude's smirk widened into a toothy grin and Patrick resisted bringing a hand up to shield his eyes from the assault of bright put forth upon his pitiful eyes. He decided to settle with a slight squint.

 

"I promise not to punch, kick, or slap as long as you continue," the guy declared, pointing a black polished fingernail directly at Patrick. "By the way my name's Pete."

 

"Oh," Patrick repeated, looking down at the paper, grimacing with every scan of his eyes. "O-oh no, these are horrible...I'm Patrick...Please don't press charges on me once I'm finished."

 

The guy by the name of Pete seemed thoughtful for a moment, a finger to his chin and worrying his bottom lip with his front teeth. Patrick couldn't really help the small glance he took, the guy has a nice mouth what can he say?

 

"Read them Patty and we'll see." Oh, well Patrick definitely wasn't expecting this. He was expecting a slap, a vast amount of how dare yous aimed towards him and to be kicked out and banned for life, but this dude-- _bastard_   _really_ , seemed amused? Um.

 

"Okay, well let me just..." Patrick muttered, trailing off, nose wrinkling in distaste at the lines in front of him. "Alright. Are your legs peanut-- _for fuck's sake_ , are your legs peanut butter?"

 

Pete hummed in thought for a long moment and then said "I don't know...maybe..." Patrick gave a small glare before gritting out the words of "Well they must be because they're smooth, creamy, and easy to spread."

 

"Why thank you," Pete gushed in return, fluttering his eyelashes and Patrick just straight scowled at him. "You're not welcome, and fuck you for enjoying my pitiful shame."

 

"You should later, but continue please." Patrick choked on the breath he was previously inhaling. He let out a rough cough, chest heaving and glared once again before he lifted the page up to his face. Hid his face more like it.

 

"Are you a donut?" Patrick sighed, defeated and Pete cackled, putting on a look of innocence and then said. "Why do you ask?" Laughter hidden beneath, lined between his words and Patrick is done.

 

"Because...Ugh, I'd just love to eat your hole... _My god,_ " Patrick groaned, crumpling the page slightly as he buried his face into it. Pete laughed loud and obnoxious and Patrick thought about being the one punching someone instead within this scenario.

 

"I'm not reading anymore," Patrick huffed, crossing his arms and Pete pouted at him, shiny bottom lip jutted out and brown eyes glimmering. Patrick begun to get a stronger urge to hit. His fists would be flying any second now.

 

"Aw c'mon, it was just getting good." Patrick shook his head, arms tightening around his chest. "Hmm, one more then? Just one more," Pete pleaded, he then clasped his hands together and bent over the counter. Eyelashes fluttering once again. Patrick gave him another glance, grunting his acceptance to which the other cheered.

 

"Give me the greatest one on that list," Pete demanded of Patrick and he only growled and bared his teeth in response. He gave one final look over the list and decided to pick the most cliche one, everyone knew it, hopefully, or maybe he just knows too many horrible pickup lines...That too.

 

"I don't know much about pies, but..." Patrick trailed off, swallowing back the laugh bubbling up in his throat at the look on the other's face, pure amusement, the skin around his eyes crinkling ever so slightly, and a wide toothy grin. Patrick isn't feeling so embarrassed anymore.

 

" _Damn_ , you make my banana cream," he finished in a whisper, leaning in and Pete made the choice to also lean in, but then there's Joe's hand curling around Patrick's arm and tugging him backwards. "What the fu--" "Oh my god, dude that was amazing," Joe said. "Wait--Joe, stop--" Pete then gave a sudden hop in front of them, toothy grin still in place as he handed over a small white box, seven digits written neatly on the top with a heart underneath.

 

"Call me," is all he said and then he's walking back and Patrick stared silently at his retreating back, all the while Joe is shaking his arm, asking what the hell just happened and then Pete spun around one last time, waving a hand before he cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled,

 

"Enjoy the pumpkin squares by the way!"

 


	2. The Text

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The menacing glare of Patrick's phone light aimed directly at his face was giving him quite the nerves. The frown on Joe's face wasn't really helping his case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I decided to add to the previous "One-shot" and make it more. So technically it's not a one-shot but y'know what who cares? Enjoy I guess~

The menacing glare of Patrick's phone light aimed directly at his face was giving him quite the nerves. The frown on Joe's face wasn't really helping his case.

 

"So?" Joe said in an aloof tone while he shifted his weight. He heaved a large sigh when Patrick didn't respond, still glaring at his phone. "Patrick are you gonna text the guy, or not?"

 

A childish whine left Patrick's throat before he could put a stop to it. "But what if texting is too lame, like what do I even say--" Patrick began in a panicked voice until Joe cut him off with another loud sigh.

 

"Dude we've been sat around your phone for an hour straight," Joe said pointedly, frown twisted into a half grimace. "My ass is literally numb. Andy left like five minutes ago, and I'm hungry--"

 

"You're always hungry, fuck you," Patrick muttered and brought a hand up to his forehead, taking in a deep breath. "You act like I'm making you sit here." Joe studied him for a few moments, eyes narrowing as the seconds passed.

 

And in a high pitched voice he screeched, "Joe! Andy! You assholes got me into this, so you're gonna fucking help me get out of it!" In a mock attempt to imitate Patrick's exact words from earlier. The only thing Patrick thought to respond with was, "That's not how I sound."

 

"That's how you sound to me," Joe offered, hiding a snort behind his hand when Patrick gave a deep scowl. "I'll have you know my voice is--" "Just because  _that one_  dude said you had a sexy voice that  _one time_  doesn't mean--"

 

"Joe don't lie to the boy," Andy scolded, plopping down next to them. His sudden entrance completing the previously formed circle within Patrick's already cramped bedroom. "You're mom's gonna walk in and think we're preforming some satanic ritual if you don't hurry up," Joe muttered, only mere irritation laced within his words.

 

Andy raised an eyebrow at him before flicking him on the ear causing Joe to sulk for a brief moment. "Patience," he said and then turned his gaze back to Patrick and tilted his head. "So....?" Patrick takes in another deep breath.

 

"I don't know what to say...Should I even text him?" Patrick croaked, answering the unspoken question, though not willingly. Joe's mouth pulled into a strained smile, holding back a laugh he said, "You could always...send him a pickup line and see where it goes from there."

 

"Of course you'd say that," Patrick grumbled and raked a hand through his hair in frustration. "That's not a terrible idea..." Andy said, receiving a sarcastic "Oh, thanks," from beneath Joe's breath while striving to coax Patrick into the idea. "It's a good way to break the ice."

 

Patrick paused, eyebrows pulled together and his jaw tensed. "I don't know man, what if it's not even his number?"

 

"Patrick, for the love of g--" "Joe," Andy warned, bending his index finger and thumb and holding it up to the other's ear into a threatening stance.

 

"Andy put the fingers away, I'll do it," Patrick interrupted in a huff.

 

"Holy shit, it's finally happening. I'd like to thank my mom, my dog, but most of all...The vegan," Joe hollered in glee while Andy rolled his eyes. "If Bacon would stop biting people he'd have more friends," Patrick commented, tugging on the hem of his sweatshirt with a slight frown.

 

Joe took in a sharp breath. Feigning offense, he growled out, "He doesn't have to change for no one, he's an independent dog who don't--"

 

"We get it, Bacon can fend for himself. It's not like I don't know that...The little devil bit me last week," Patrick uttered quietly. "That means he likes you," Joe mentioned with a crooked grin.

 

"I'm sure," Patrick murmured, now pulling out loose strings from within his sleeve. "Stop stalling." Joe ordered, slapping Patrick's hand away and ensuing the latter to grunt his annoyance. "Now Andy, my good sir...You...uh, still got the list?"

 

Andy's face dropped at that. Patrick looked between them with a deadpan expression, remembering the fact that he commanded them to burn it after Joe snatched it away from his frozen form.

 

"But don't you want it for when you two get married?" Joe had jeered. No Patrick really wouldn't. Patrick would rather remove the entire existence of said memory from his poor forever scarred up old brain.

 

"What the hell do you mean you guys  _still_ have it?" Patrick demanded, leaning in. "Whoa there man, I don't have it." Andy replied, aiming to mollify Patrick's presumed rage. Joe let out a loud groan in complaint. "You serious? We spent like, like... _fifteen minutes_ gathering all of that."

 

"Are you fucking joking--" Patrick began, though cut short when Andy cleared his throat. "I have the copy though."

 

Patrick's expression went blank. " _What?_ You made a copy?" Andy nodded, pulling a folded slip of paper out from his back pocket. Patrick immediately grimaced. 

 

"Wonderful."

 

"Now read through them and choose," Joe said, nudging Patrick hard in the chest with his pointer finger. "Stop it before I hit you."

 

Patrick then took said paper and scanned through it. The paper that he really didn't wanna see again, yet here it is. The only thought that raced through Patrick's mind at this point was "This is bullshit."

 

"My lenses turn dark in the sunshine of your love," Patrick announced in a loud cry and then proceeded to laugh his ass off. "These are  _so_ bad...H-holy smokes."

 

"Dude focus." Joe glared.

 

"Fine."

 

After five minutes of looking through about at least fifty of those monstrosities. Be it whether or not he'd stick with "I play the field, and it looks like I hit a home run with you," or "Your legs must be tired because you've been running through my mind all day."

 

Patrick made the decision to go with "You're so hot you would make the devil sweat." More so compelled to choose it because he made the mistake of dressing as the devil last Halloween...He got a lot of numbers that night though...

 

So he typed it out on the keypad of his phone, erasing it once, then typing it out again, and erasing it another time before adding a greeting to start with.

 

"Hi, Patrick here...Uh, hope you're actually the dude who gave me this number." How awkward would that be if it wasn't? He sincerely hoped this dude wasn't fucking with him. He reluctantly forced himself to rewrite the line, adding "P.S. I'm the devil" at the end of it.

 

"There, sent...Now we wait," Patrick mumbled, chewing at his thumbnail. Joe opened his mouth to reply though he's interrupted when the phone decided to vibrate in Patrick's hand. "Oh," Patrick said and Andy snorted. "That was fast."

 

Patrick squawked in protest when Joe gasped and bellowed "Lemme see, lemme see!" and made a quick beeline to snatch his phone from right out of his hand. He then used his foot to hold Patrick back from physically assaulting him. "I'm gonna tear out your god damn fro-- _oh my god_ \--"

 

"Wait, wait--Ooh, Patrick it's definitely him," Joe said, beaming. "What?" Patrick questioned until Joe shoved the screen into his face, startling him for a moment. He blinked staring at the only text in reply. "Are you a hipster? Because you make my hips stir."

 

"Oh," Patrick repeated dumbly, taking the phone back. "What do I say?"

 

"Dude you gotta do this alone." Joe told him and Andy nodded. "The great masters can't teach you anymore."

 

"Fuck you guys," Patrick scoffed before looking back at his phone. He tapped out another message saying "That doesn't really answer the previous message stated, but I'm gonna assume. I think you're pretty cool, so...Wanna hang? My place? Saturday?"

 

He waited a couple of seconds, wiggling his toes nervously until another vibrate alerted him of the second reply.

 

"It's absolutely Pete. Fuck yeah I'd like to chill...Bring your pickup lines and I'll bring mine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more part is planned...Y'know the date or whatever...Get ready for the war of pickup lines.
> 
>  
> 
> Even though they technically already picked up each other.
> 
>  
> 
> Let's just ignore that...For now.
> 
>  
> 
> P.S. I'm a little sorry for this.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not even sorry for this.


End file.
